


Have Your Cake

by Blue_Sparkle, summerofspock



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, First Time, Flirting, Includes Art, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), Love Confessions, Regency, Semi-Public Sex, Sharing a Bed, getting together early, this is tender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:19:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22292449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/pseuds/Blue_Sparkle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/pseuds/summerofspock
Summary: Aziraphale runs into Crowley during one of her assignments at a country estate. It's been a few centuries but she thinks she'd remember if Crowley had always made her feel this way.**Illustrated by the lovely Blue_Sparkle
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 576





	Have Your Cake

**Author's Note:**

> art is embedded with the exception of an NSFW piece which is linked from the text!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Full credit to Blue_Sparkle for the gorgeous art. You can find them on [tumblr](https://www.asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com) or here on [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/works)
> 
> last but not least, shout out to my beta poetic_nonsense who called me on my historical hand waving and gave some seriously TOP NOTCH advice regarding tenderness levels

Aziraphale straightened her bonnet and dismounted the carriage after Lydia who gave her a bright smile. Lydia had waxed rhapsodic about this little weeklong getaway to Yorkshire and her continued thanks for Aziraphale’s attendance had only buoyed her mood. She couldn’t deny that she was also looking forward to a little easy work. Being assigned to convince Lydia to marry Lord Sandford was one of her better assignments in recent years, and she’d taken to it with fervor. She’d been able to make friends, travel, and try all sorts of delectable treats.

And now she was here with Lydia, set for the weekend on Lord Sandford’s estate for the yearly ball thrown by his mother. Aziraphale hadn’t had a chance to meet the dowager in question but she’d heard interesting things.

“Oh, I just can’t wait for tomorrow,” Lydia said, clasping her hands together as she danced around Aziraphale happily. Her youthful enthusiasm was quite something to behold and Aziraphale tried to take it in stride.

The coachmen were busy taking down their trunks and being met by the Sandfords’ manservants. Aziraphale had a great deal fewer items to take care of. Since she was posing as Lydia’s hired chaperone, she couldn’t exactly live in opulence in comparison to her charge who came from obvious wealth.

“We simply must walk the grounds. It looks like there’s a lovely garden just there!” Lydia cried, pointing to the far side of the grounds. Aziraphale saw what looked like the beginnings of a hedge maze and nodded. Her corporation was sore from the long day in the carriage but she really should be spending time with Lydia to continue laying the groundwork for the heaven-sanctioned match.

“Lead the way, Ms. Lydia,” Aziraphale said with an indulgent nod.

Lydia wrapped her arm through Aziraphale’s and dragged her towards the hedge maze, chattering in her excitement. “Do you think I should wear my cream dress for dinner or the lovely one with the blue bells?”

“The cream dress emphasizes your figure,” Aziraphale answered easily. Aziraphale was quite a fan of the fashions of the day, all the loose dresses. Though, the more formal attire wasn’t exactly made for someone with her...endowments.

“You’re absolutely right,” Lydia said with a decisive nod. “The cream dress it is.”

“Lydia?” a voice said incredulously from inside the entrance to the hedge maze. A woman appeared, slightly older than Lydia’s eighteen years with sleek black hair that curled perfectly at her temples.

“Susan?” Lydia cried and then she was launching herself across the grass to pull the apparent Susan into a hug. “I had no idea you’d be here!”

Susan looked floored by the sudden display of affection and settled Lydia back to the ground. “It’s good to see you too, dear. Lady Sandford invited me. We’re old friends you know.”

“Is Edward here then?” Lydia asked.

“Oh, yes, my husband is somewhere around here. Lord Sandford dragged him off to catch up on business.”

Lydia laughed at the mention of her hopefully soon-to-be husband.

“Susan, this is Miss Fell,” Lydia said gesturing for Aziraphale to come forward.

Aziraphale curtsied and said, “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

A black shape slithered out from behind the hedge and took post next to Susan, pointy chin and sharp teeth that Aziraphale would recognize anywhere.

“C-crowley?” Aziraphale stammered before she could help herself, heart going off-rhythm in her chest. She hadn’t seen Crowley in several years and ever since the start of their Arrangement, Aziraphale had gotten more used to her reaction to Crowley, that subtle burst of anxiety and anticipation she felt every time they met. Some of her response could probably be attributed to how Crowley looked in the fashion of the day, particularly demonic in a gown even blacker than black. It skimmed her figure elegantly, emphasizing the lean line of her torso, her flat chest, making her arms look longer, her neck more elegant. Ridiculous. How she could make absolutely anything look so good Aziraphale had no idea.

Crowley raised one eyebrow at her and grinned.

“Oh!” Susan said with a curious smile. “Do you know Miss Crowley?”

Crowley tore her eyes away from Aziraphale and turned that sharp grin to her companion and said, “We’re old friends.”

“Ye-yes,” Aziraphale said, wringing her hands. “Old friends.”

“Well, how lovely!” Lydia said. My, she was always such a chipper thing. “I was worried you wouldn’t know anyone, Aziraphale. How fortunate!”

Crowley smirked, red-lensed glasses hiding her eyes which were surely smirking too. “Fortunate indeed.”

Aziraphale felt a thrill of anxiety Crowley’s tone. She was probably going to tease her something fierce. Which was fine. Aziraphale had gotten better at giving as good as she got.

* * *

After supper the ladies retired to the drawing room and Aziraphale pointedly took the seat next to Crowley. “What are you doing here?” she hissed under her breath.

Crowley turned her head lazily. “Business. Same as you, I’m sure.”

Aziraphale huffed. Crowley was infuriating. “Yes, but what business?”

“I don’t have to tell you,” Crowley said in a sing-song way.

“What if I tell you first?” Aziraphale asked, unable to stop from pressing. How long had it been since they’d last seen each other? At least a dozen years.

Crowley looked at her over the rims of her red glasses and said slowly, “Alright.”

“Miss Harrington,” Aziraphale said with a gesture of her chin in the direction of Lydia and Susan. “I’m supposed to convince her to accept Lord Sandford’s suit.”

Crowley laughed. “What does that have to do with the Kingdom of Heaven?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Aziraphale retorted. How very rude. “I’m following orders, Crowley.”

That made Crowley snicker, black gloved hand coming up to cover her mouth. For a strange moment, Aziraphale wished she hadn’t. She liked Crowley’s smile.

Oh, dear, what a thought.

“And you?” she pressed.

Crowley gestured at Susan. “I’m supposed to convince her to have children. No idea why. I’m not complaining though. Pretty cushy assignment.”

“That’s what I was thinking!” Aziraphale cried and then looked at her lap in embarrassment when several of the ladies glanced at her sharply.

Crowley elbowed her. “You here through the ball then?”

Aziraphale nodded, stomach fluttering for some unknown reason. “Yes, of course.”

“Well, then I guess it won’t be a complete bore.”

Aziraphale was still adjusting to their tentative friendship and she supposed she was glad Crowley felt the same way. That was probably why her heart soared at Crowley’s words.

* * *

“Oh, I hope it’s alright that you’re going to be sharing quarters,” Lydia said apologetically, shifting on her feet in front of Aziraphale’s newly assigned room. “I knew there would be a lot of people here but I thought - if you’re uncomfortable, you can share mine.”

Aziraphale shook her head even though her cheeks were burning. “It’s quite alright, dear. Crowley and I know each other very well.”

Lydia sighed with relief. “I’m sure that’s what Susan told them when they were setting up rooms. I’d just - I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable when _I_ asked you to come.”

Aziraphale patted her arm affectionately and tried to reassure her. “I will be _fine_.”

It wouldn’t be the first time they’d shared a room. Sometimes the Arrangement warranted it. And with how often their assignments aligned they frequently ran into each in the oddest places.

That being said, it had been a while.

Aziraphale kissed Lydia’s cheek and opened the door, only to find Crowley already perched in the chair by the vanity staring at her reflection pensively. Their eyes locked in the mirror and it was as if the air went out of the room. Aziraphale swallowed around the sudden dryness in her throat as she drifted to the lace curtains, wanting to look out over the grounds. Not the best view, but it would get lovely natural light.

She heard Crowley snap her fingers and several candles appeared, already guttering to life.

“The food tonight was rather good,” Aziraphale said, trying to ease the tension in the room and when she turned back to Crowley, she found her rolling her eyes, the sarcastic motion tempered by her small smile.

“You and your food. Any near misses with discorporation for crepes in the last dozen years?” Crowley said, a teasing smile on her face. Her tightly wound curls emphasized the harsh angles of her cheekbones, hiding the serpent tattoo on her temple, and, if not for the glasses, she would look like any handsome woman of a certain age.

Aziraphale’s heart gave a little kick in her chest. She ignored it.

“I’ll have you know that the Bastille situation was an aberration. I don’t usually get into trouble like that,” she said primly and Crowley let out a half-laugh-half-snort before turning back to her reflection and slipping off her dark lenses.

“Sure, Aziraphale, whatever you say.”

Aziraphale huffed and began to remove her gloves. A good night’s sleep seemed just the ticket and sharing with Crowley wouldn’t make a difference. Sleep was sleep no matter who you were sharing a bed with.

Undoing the pins that held her hair up, Aziraphale sighed when the tight pressure released and her curly blonde hair fell about her shoulders. She couldn’t wait to get out of her corset. Fashionable or not, they really made one work up a sweat. She shuddered at the memory of the last century’s fashion preferences with the monstrosities of stays and panniers. All in all, these corded corsets were much more comfortable. If a bit sweaty.

Turning to the vanity, Aziraphale noticed Crowley, her face screwed up, pointy elbows in the air as she struggled with her own hair pins.

“Oh, dear, let me help,” Aziraphale said, coming up behind her and knocking her hands away. Crowley met her eyes in the mirror and Aziraphale’s breath caught in her throat. Those yellow eyes did always seem to pin her in a way that made Aziraphale’s heart stop.

“Alright,” Crowley said warily, shoulders relaxing minutely, the harsh jut of her collarbone dipping even further as she exhaled.

“Let me just…” Aziraphale stepped back and moved a candle to the vanity. The moonlight illuminated the room enough to see but a little candlelight would make Aziraphale’s job a bit easier.

“Let me know if I hit any snags,” Aziraphale said quietly, fingers already settling Crowley’s hair, seeking the pins holding it in place. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

Did she sound breathless? She surely didn’t intend to.

With one hand on Crowley’s neck to steady her, and a delicate press of Aziraphale’s fingers, Aziraphale slipped the first pin out and set it on the vanity. A single curl unfurled, copper and flickering like fire in the candlelight.

She removed another pin, and another, and let Crowley’s hair fall about her neck, kissing the pale skin of her shoulders. Aziraphale met her eyes in the mirror and saw that Crowley had closed them. She looked so relaxed that Aziraphale was loath to stop.

Picking up the brush, Aziraphale held it for a moment and hesitated. “Would you like me to brush out your hair?” she asked, her throat feeling tight.

Crowley looked like something out of a painting and Aziraphale imagined if she was just down to her shift, sprawled across the bed in that careless way of hers, she would look even more heartstopping.

Crowley’s eyes opened slowly and met Aziraphale’s. “If you don’t mind.”

Did she sound as affected as Aziraphale felt?

Aziraphale started at the ends of her curls, cradling them in her hand as she ran the brush over them, releasing their spring so they formed loose waves. Oh, Crowley’s hair was so soft in her palm. Aziraphale passed the brush through Crowley’s hair so many times that it shone and, finally, when she had no more excuses, she plaited it carefully, tied at the end with a cream ribbon she miracled up.

“There,” Aziraphale said, patting Crowley’s shoulder and immediately regretting it when it sent a spark up her palm. “Lovely,” she managed to add.

Crowley just looked at her, face unreadable before she flicked her eyebrows up and asked, “Want me to do you?”

“I-” Aziraphale’s heart was racing. “Yes, well I suppose that would be nice.”

“Let’s get you out of your dress first,” Crowley said, standing and turning towards her.

Oh dear lord.

This was just - this was what women who shared bedrooms did for each other. Nothing else whatsoever.

Crowley was behind her then, deft fingers moving her hair to drape in front of her as she quickly undid the buttons at the back of Aziraphale's dress. It slipped over her shoulders and down to the floor, leaving her only in her shift and corset. Without the delicate lace of her bodice, her breasts were pushed nearly out of her shift and she thanked her lucky stars Crowley was behind her or else she’d be blushing even harder than she already was.

“These have never looked very comfortable,” Crowley remarked as her knuckles brushed along the top of Aziraphale’s corset before she began to tug on her laces.

“It’s more comfortable than it looks, I assure you. Though I do enjoy taking it off.”

Crowley mumbled something under her breath that Aziraphale couldn’t quite catch but thought sounded a bit like _going to discorporate me at this rate_. The laces gave suddenly and Aziraphale’s breasts spilled free. She held her arms over her chest as Crowley quickly undid the rest of the laces, helping her tug the corset over her head before she adjusted her shift to cover up the rest of her.

Cheeks quite pink, Aziraphale turned to Crowley and said, “Thank you.”

Crowley just looked at her for a long moment and then shook her head. “Right, yeah. More comfortable now though.”

“Yes, quite,” Aziraphale said, taking to the seat in front of the mirror and willing her heart to slow.

Then Crowley’s hands were in her hair and she couldn’t think about anything really. She’d never thought her scalp to be a particularly sensitive part of her body, but with Crowley’s fingers carefully brushing through her hair, braiding it loosely, Aziraphale was beginning to reconsider her position.

It was over far too quickly, Crowley stepping back and blowing out the candle on the vanity.

“Your dress?” Aziraphale offered and Crowley nodded, allowing Aziraphale access to her back.

She tipped her head forward and Aziraphale stared at the bone of her spine. Her neck was so long, so elegant and the fine wisps of red hair that curled over her nape looked like they would feel like the finest down.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, a thread of concern in her voice. Aziraphale jumped and immediately started working down her buttons. She needed to focus and not think about Crowley’s _neck_ of all things.

When Crowley stepped out of her dress, Aziraphale noticed two things. First, her shift was as black as her dress and second, she didn’t wear a corset. Of course she didn’t. Thin as she was, what would it do?

Crowley picked up her dress and hung it over the folding screen to be retrieved later by servants. Aziraphale hugged herself, the cool night air making goosebumps rise on her skin and her nipples pebble. She didn’t want Crowley to see that.

“Get in bed, angel,” Crowley said, already pulling back. “Before you catch your death in that shift.”

Embarrassed but more interested in warmth than anything else, Aziraphale hurried to her side of the bed and slipped between the sheets, tucking the blankets around her as she laid back and stared at the ceiling. She felt the blankets rustle and the bed shift and Crowley joined her, a snap of her fingers extinguishing the candles.

They’d shared beds before. Why did this feel so different?

Aziraphale rolled onto her side to say goodnight and found Crowley looking at her. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, Crowley’s eyes searching her face.

“It’s good to see you, Aziraphale,” Crowley said, breaking the quiet. The smell of dampened candles danced in the room and Aziraphale took a sharp breath. What could she say?

Lost entirely in the way Crowley’s face looked in the moonlight, Aziraphale reached out and brushed her knuckles over the back of Crowley’s hand where it rested between them.

“Yes, it is.”

* * *

It had been a very long time since Aziraphale had slept next to someone. The last had been Crowley in some awful place in the Highlands and they’d woken up smooshed together because it had been _frigid_.

It was not quite as cold in spring in the south but the air was cool enough that Aziraphale wanted to burrow into the blankets and never leave.

To her shock, it was Crowley that kicked her out of bed. Shooing her to get dressed and saying, “Rise and shine, angel. We’ve got a day ahead of us.”

Aziraphale groaned and pulled the blankets over her head which only had Crowley yanking them off.

“Oh, you _layabout_ ,” she said teasingly. “Always mocking me for my naps and yet here we are.”

“Hush,” Aziraphale said, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes

“Come oooon,” Crowley whined. “Help me into my dress.”

Aziraphale did as she was asked, grumbling the while. It seemed to delight Crowley that Aziraphale was feeling a bit tetchy. But it wasn’t her fault! She’d spent the greater part of the evening tossing and turning and thinking about how utterly bewitched she’d been by Crowley. Ten years apart and then suddenly she was all aflutter.

_Remember how she looked in those boots in the Bastille? Her legs had looked a mile long in those trousers and that coat._

Aziraphale pushed the memory away and snapped herself into her clothes, not wanting Crowley to touch her for fear of how she would react. She was already aching and she could just imagine what it would be like to have Crowley’s fingers tugging at her laces again.

She hated miracling into her clothes because she could never manage her corset just right - the laces were always slightly too loose and bunched up in the back, but it was better than collapsing into a puddle in the middle of the bedroom because Crowley brushed her knuckles over her spine.

“Nice dress,” Crowley said once she’d finished doing her hair.

Aziraphale huffed at her words. Crowley did so love to tease her. “Not all of us can look like you.”

“Wasn’t being sarcastic, angel,” Crowley said before drifting out of the room. Aziraphale looked at herself in the mirror, twin spots of color on her cheeks. Oh, dear.

* * *

Lydia was giggling on the blanket next to Lord Sandford and looking happy as a clam. Well, that was good. Aziraphale hadn’t even had to work to make that happen.

Aziraphale munched on a grape and hummed in pleasure. They were perfectly ripe. What a nice day, sitting outside and having the sun poised above them as a fine spring breeze rustled the grass.

Susan took the seat next to her on the blanket and lifted a parasol over her head. Aziraphale hadn’t bothered with a parasol, despite the concerned looks it had earned her from Lydia. She liked feeling the sun on her face. And besides, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t miracle away any sort of sunburn.

“Lovely day,” Susan remarked, rummaging in the basket at Aziraphale’s feet and pulling out an apple.

Aziraphale hummed in acknowledgment and tilted her face up to the sun.

She listened to Susan crunch on her apple and idly began to play with the strands of grass beside the blanket. Perhaps she should have brought a book -

“So how do you know my dear Crowley?” Susan asked speculatively.

Aziraphale hesitated. She wasn’t exactly sure what Crowley had already said and didn’t want to contradict her. “Oh, we’re old friends,” she settled on finally, repeating Crowley’s words from the day before.

Aziraphale’s eyes caught on the dark smudge of Crowley’s dress where she was standing downhill in the orchard. She looked to be in conversation with Lady Sandford and Aziraphale suddenly wanted to stand and walk down the hill to join them.

Susan was still looking at her as if she expected more of an answer so Aziraphale added, “We grew up in the same circles.”

Thankfully, Susan accepted this equally vague explanation and didn’t press.

“And you? How did you meet Crowley?”

“We met in Bath,” Susan said fondly. “And Crowley, as I’m sure you know, has quite the wit. We became fast friends. I was thankful she was able to join me this week. It’s always nice to have friends close for these sort of things.”

Crowley looked up the hill and the sunlight reflected off her glasses as she gave Aziraphale a small smile that had Aziraphale’s stomach fluttering.

The lunch hour passed and the party began to pack up their things to return to the house for an evening of cards and drinking. Aziraphale felt quite sun-warmed and relaxed as the servants packed up the baskets.

“Fancy a walk, angel?” Crowley asked, appearing at her elbow. Aziraphale jumped and pressed a hand to her chest.

“Oh, my dear, you gave me quite a fright,” she said, heart hammering something wild.

“Oh really?” Crowley said, cocking an eyebrow. “Good to know I’m still _frightening_.”

She pushed her tongue between her teeth and wiggled her eyebrows which sent Aziraphale into giggles. “Oh, you silly serpent, you’re hardly frightening. You simply startled me.”

Crowley took her hand and tucked it into her elbow. “Let’s walk back to the house and you can tell me everything about me that frightens you.”

Aziraphale rolled her eyes and ignored the way her palm sparked where it touched Crowley’s bare arm. It felt so very scandalous to be touching skin to skin, but such affection was the norm between women of the day and perhaps it would be _strange_ if old friends like she and Crowley did not touch easily and Aziraphale didn’t want to cause a _stir_ -

“Angel,” Crowley said, cutting into her thoughts. “You’re muttering. Care to share with the class?”

Aziraphale forced herself not to yank her hand away as her cheeks grew warm. “No, I’m - I’m quite alright. Thank you.”

Crowley didn’t say anything, just raised a brow in her direction.

The walk back to the house was a little less than an hour and perhaps Aziraphale should have thought of that before she agreed to walk with Crowley. She also, perhaps, should have looked at the sky before they began the walk, before deciding not to take the carriage. Because then they wouldn’t have been caught in the rain.

It started as a light sprinkle that caught Aziraphale by surprise, the first cool drop sliding down her neck. Crowley looked at their linked arms, affronted by the splattering drops on her skin, as more rain began to fall.

And then it was as if the heavens opened up. Of course, not literally, because if the heavens opened up there would be a great deal of paperwork. But, metaphorically speaking, it was quite the deluge.

Aziraphale's hair was plastered to her forehead in seconds and her dress was quickly soaking through. Oh bother. The rain was coming too fast to miracle it away and they were so far from the house -

“C’mon, angel!” Crowley shouted over the steadily increasing downpour, tugging on her arm as she broke out into a run, laughing and whooping as she tried to escape the rain. Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh too as she tried to keep up and found herself breathless when they finally paused under the canopy of the nearest tree.

It wasn’t the perfect shelter. The limbs dripped and the foliage didn’t keep all the water out, but it gave them both a moment to catch their breath.

“Oh dear, I hope everyone got back alright,” Aziraphale said, wringing the water from her skirt.

Crowley slicked her dripping curls back from her forehead and pulled off her rain-spattered glasses. “I’m sure they’re all snug and dry back at the manor. Well, except for those two.”

Aziraphale followed the line of Crowley’s gesture and saw the light blue patch of Lydia’s dress in the distance. Aziraphale’s charge was stuck in the rain! Without thinking, Aziraphale took a step forward, but Crowley caught her arm. “Looks like she’s with that bloke. Ought to leave them be, don’t you think?”

Aziraphale peered through the curtain of rain and sure enough, there was Lord Sandford, dabbing the rain from Lydia’s face with his handkerchief as they stepped under the canopy of their own tree.

“Oh, I do suppose it’s very romantic,” Aziraphale said on a sigh, slumping against the tree trunk.

“What’s romantic?” Crowley asked, drawing Aziraphale’s eyes back to her. Under the dappled light filtering through the leaves, Crowley looked magnificent. Her eyes were golden as daffodils, wet hair dripping down her neck. Aziraphale had not had occasion before to notice the way Crowley could inhabit a space, fill it with her presence so you couldn’t look away.

“Being stuck in the rain with the person you love,” Aziraphale replied, breathless and somehow transfixed.

The only sound between them was the shushing of rain against the leaves and their own shuddering breaths. Crowley reached out and touched Aziraphale’s hair. What was happening? Surely, this couldn’t be -

“You have a leaf stuck...here,” Crowley said and she was so close to Aziraphale, her fingers trailing over her cheek. Her eyes flitted to Aziraphale’s mouth. Paused...

Aziraphale grasped her wrist, stopping the motion of her hand. “Crowley, I -”

She didn’t know what she was going to say, but it didn’t matter because Crowley pulled away.

“Sounds like it’s letting up,” she said easily, slipping her glasses back onto her nose. And sure enough, the pattering began to ease.

“The weather in England is so temperamental in the spring,” Crowley commented, easy as you please, before stepping out into the wet grass.

Aziraphale stared after her and tried to regain some control over her racing heart. Had Crowley been about to kiss her?

Had Aziraphale wanted her to?

* * *

Dinner was fine - alright, it was very good - but after dinner was a study in torture. Crowley was everywhere. Talking to Susan, talking to the Lady Sandford, talking to all the ladies except Aziraphale and Aziraphale couldn’t look away.

Aziraphale remembered a time - on a wall so many thousands of years ago - when she had thought Crowley had looked severe. When had that changed? When had Crowley become one of the most beautiful things Aziraphale had ever seen?

Aziraphale looked at her lap and fiddled with the tips of her gloves. It didn’t help. Not looking at Crowley only provided her the opportunity to pass through images of their storied past. Crowley in fine robes in Rome, usually long hair cropped short, drawing the attention of everyone in the taberna. She always did that. So striking.

Crowley taking to trousers for a century and looking devastating at every turn. And always there. Always there when Aziraphale needed her.

She caught Crowley’s eyes across the room. A questioning smile. She managed a small one in return.

Maybe nothing had changed.

Maybe Aziraphale’s eyes had simply been opened to a truth she had willfully ignored.

**

They were silent as they got ready for bed that evening. Crowley slipped out of her own dress and messily brushed her hair. Aziraphale wished uselessly to help but instead spent ten minutes struggling with her corset, only to have Crowley appear behind her and knock her hands away.

“Just ask for help if you need it,” she said. A small reprimand.

“Yes, I, er, didn’t want to bother you.” Aziraphale tugged the now loosened corset over her head, trying not to react when her hands accidentally made contact with Crowley’s.

“Not a bother, angel,” Crowley said simply before retiring to the bed and disappearing under the blankets.

Aziraphale sighed, undoing her own hair and pulling it into a loose plait. She blew out the candle and took to bed, trying to talk down her nerves which seemed to only want to remind her that it was Crowley she was getting into bed with. That Crowley had maybe almost kissed her that afternoon. That Aziraphale had spent all evening thinking about what it would be like if she had.

Crowley was lying there, eyes open, when Aziraphale slipped between the sheets. They were just looking at each other in the quiet, the dim light of the moon illuminating the crooked line of Crowley’s nose, the way her lashes lay long over her sharp cheekbones. She was so unbearably lovely. Unbearably dear.

Overwhelmed and refusing to think too much about this thing she so desperately wanted, Aziraphale swallowed and closed the short distance between them to brush their mouths together. Oh, Crowley’s lips were so soft.

Every single nerve in her body was attuned to Crowley. She could feel the place where their knees almost touched under the covers, where Crowley’s hand had come to rest between their chests.

And then that hand was on her cheek, a cool caress, as Crowley moved her mouth over Aziraphale’s. She shivered at the sensation and pressed closer.

There was a sound, a low whimper and it was _Crowley_ making that noise low in her throat. The reality of it sent butterflies off in Aziraphale’s stomach, but this time they were accompanied by a lower sensation, a tugging between her legs that - despite inexperience - Aziraphale knew the meaning of.

Delicately - carefully, because Crowley deserved care - Aziraphale nipped at her bottom lip and Crowley responded with a languorous slide of her tongue in Aziraphale’s mouth. And now _Aziraphale_ was whimpering.

Crowley’s hands were everywhere, on Aziraphale’s belly, skating down her bare arms, sliding back to grip her nape. It all felt so good that Aziraphale couldn’t help but try to get closer, wrapping her arms around Crowley and holding her tight.

Crowley tugged on her shift, rucking it up and Aziraphale took the hint, sitting up and allowing Crowley to pull it over her head before she thought too hard about why she should maybe stay clothed. But then she was naked beneath Crowley’s hungry gaze.

Crowley kissed over her chest, her sternum, before licking one of her nipples with quick dart of her tongue and when Aziraphale cried out, she seemed to take that as a cue to take her nipple into her mouth and suck. The sensation sent hot pulses of want straight between Aziraphale’s legs and she sank her hands into Crowley’s hair as she gasped.

Aziraphale thought she might be begging but she had no idea for what. Words were leaving her mouth but she couldn’t parse them, not with Crowley biting over her breasts, palming at her stomach. The blankets were twisting around them but Aziraphale didn’t care. She was so caught up in Crowley she thought the room could catch fire and she might not notice.

Crowley kissed her again, just as her hand found its way between her legs, tracing her folds. Every muscle in her body jumped at the new sensation.

“Fuck,” Crowley said into her mouth. “Can I -”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, grasping Crowley’s arm and tugging her closer.

The languorous kisses from before turned fervent as Crowley worked over her, thumbing her clit and making her squirm. It was so much. Too much. Perfect.

Crowley sat back and her hand retreated, skimming over Aziraphale's body until two fingers pressed against her lips, into her mouth. Aziraphale sucked on them eagerly, the taste of herself enough to make her moan. The way Crowley was looking at her made her feel deliciously wicked, like a wanton thing, so she flickered her tongue over the sensitive pads of Crowley's fingers just to see her reaction.

Hissing in surprise, Crowley fell forward, braid dropping over her shoulder and tickling Aziraphale's bare skin.

Crowley bit down on the juncture of her neck as she brought her spit slick hand back to Aziraphale's sex and slipped a finger inside her. The sensation was entirely foreign. Aziraphale had...perhaps explored the region before but she’d never…

Then Crowley was fucking her with her hand and it was _astounding_. Each press of her fingers made Aziraphale want more. Their kisses turned sloppy and Crowley alternated between grinding her palm against Aziraphale’s clit and fucking her with those clever fingers, curling them up and pressing them against whatever spot in Aziraphale that had lights flashing behind her eyes.

“Faster,” Aziraphale gasped, scraping her fingers over Crowley’s shoulders. She was so close, she just needed...

Aziraphale immediately realized Crowley had been holding back because _this_ was being fucked. Her body shook as Crowley thrust into her with one then two then three fingers. She began to murmur things into Aziraphale’s ear as her muscles tensed. Her legs were shaking and Crowley wouldn’t relent and then the tension released. She cried out, a broken sob that Crowley kissed from her mouth, hand slowing between her legs and then withdrawing.

Aziraphale’s whole body was trembling as Crowley kissed her again. “You did so good, angel,” she said quietly between deep kisses. “So good for me.”

The words set off something possessive in Aziraphale, something desperate to please Crowley. She surged up, ripping Crowley’s shift over head. Perhaps the fabric tore but she paid no attention to it, bearing Crowley back against the pillow as she kissed her hungrily.

“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale said, tracing the curve of Crowley’s neck with her hand. Crowley looked up at her with wide questioning eyes. They’d talk later. There were time for words after this. Because right then all Aziraphale wanted was to hear her name fall from that beloved mouth.

She filled her hands with Crowley’s small breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers, feeling them grow hard under her attentions. Crowley moaned and pressed her hips up against her, silently seeking more.

Well, Aziraphale would give it to her.

She fumbled her fingers between Crowley’s legs, chasing the sounds of her pleasure and letting Crowley guide her fingers when she was unsure.

Aziraphale was certain that Crowley in the throes of pleasure was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen, the feeling of her coming undone under her hand the headiest experience of her existence.

As Crowley’s breathing calmed, Aziraphale gathered her in her arms, savoring the way her body notched against Aziraphale’s just right. Perfect in fact.

She pressed a kiss to Crowley’s hair and drifted to sleep feeling blissfully, utterly happy.

* * *

When the sun rose, they untangled, Crowley going about the business of getting ready and looking everywhere but at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale sat up in bed, confused. They’d made love. Why was Crowley acting like this?

Finally, Crowley picked up her glasses from the bedside table and hesitated. “About last night…”

Aziraphale’s heart dropped into her belly.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. If you don’t - if you’d rather pretend it didn’t happen. We can forget about it.”

Crowley’s nerves suddenly made sense. Oh, the dear girl. The dear, dear girl.

Aziraphale scrambled across the bed on her knees and yanked Crowley into a slightly messy kiss that had Crowley grunting against her mouth.

When she pulled away, Aziraphale was breathing hard, her arousal already heavy between her legs. “Absolutely not. No forgetting. In fact, I’d like to remember last night forever.”

“Oh,” Crowley breathed, eyes wide as her hands came to settle on Aziraphale’s hips. The touch was questioning, hesitant, which absolutely wouldn’t do so Aziraphale kissed her again, satisfied when those hands clutched at her.

Crowley broke the kiss first and she was smiling. She looked so lovely when she smiled. “Bad angel. We have work to do.”

Aziraphale whined in protest, mostly teasing just to see how Crowley would react. Which turned out to be an affectionate swat on the arse.

Aziraphale pushed Crowley away, but they were both laughing. “Who’s being bad now, hmm?”

“Hullo, demon here,” Crowley said with a flicker of forked tongue before putting on her glasses.

Crowley took her leave and Aziraphale fell back against the pillows with a happy sigh. Would the whole week be like this?

* * *

The ladies and gentlemen were playing pall mall in the courtyard and Aziraphale had taken a seat at one of the garden tables, breaking for tea. She wasn’t partial to the game but it was nice to see people enjoying themselves.

Her mind kept drifting back to the night before, the hard press of Crowley’s body, her infernally hot mouth on Aziraphale’s breasts, clever hand between her legs. Aziraphale focused on her tea. If she thought about it too much, she was liable to burn right up.

“Hey, angel,” Crowley said, sliding into the seat beside her, which was now a great deal closer than it had been before a demon had taken up residence in it.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said with a polite nod, trying to mask her rather new and embarrassing reaction to Crowley’s proximity. Had her inappropriate thoughts somehow summoned Crowley?

“You’re looking a bit peaked,” Crowley observed lightly, pouring her own tea. “Did you need to get out of the sun?”

“I’m fine,” Aziraphale said, tilting up her nose.

“Perhaps lost in thought?” Crowley practically purred, placing her hand atop Aziraphale’s and trailing her short nails lightly over the back. The sensation sent shivers down Aziraphale’s spine.

Oh, it was a game like _that_ then. Aziraphale pressed her knee against Crowley’s under the table and withdrew her hand, letting it settle carefully on Crowley’s thigh, out of view.

“I wouldn’t say _lost_ ,” Aziraphale said, leaning close. “I’m thinking about something very particular in fact.”

Whatever confidence Crowley had when first taking a seat next to her disappeared as she made a noise like a whistling kettle and turned red.

“Are you quite alright, Miss Crowley?” Lady Sandford asked from across the yard.

Aziraphale blinked at Crowley serenely. “ _Are_ you alright, dear?”

Aziraphale moved her hand to Crowley’s inner thigh and was rewarded by a little choked noise. Feeling utterly victorious, Aziraphale withdrew as Crowley called out, “Quite alright Lady Sandford. I thought I saw a bee.”

Aziraphale snorted into her tea. “A _bee_ ,” she repeated under her breath and Crowley kicked her shin making her yelp.

“Shut up,” Crowley growled under her breath which was truly delightful and sent a little anticipatory shiver through Aziraphale. She’d made a noise quite like that in bed the night before.

Aziraphale wanted to hear it again.

* * *

“What a lovely way to spend an evening,” Lydia commented, sounding very happy indeed. From across the drawing room Lord Sandford sent her a lovelorn glance and Aziraphale felt a thrill of success even though she’d done nothing whatsoever.

“It is rather nice to spend time with dear friends,” Lady Sandford replied. “Perhaps some music would be just the thing.”

“Miss Crowley plays,” Susan offered and Crowley held out her hands and shook her head.

“Oh no, I’m not very skilled.”

Aziraphale’s head whipped around to look at Crowley. She played the piano? Aziraphale should have known. With hands like that...

“Nonsense,” Susan said with a breezy laugh. “We would all love to hear you play.”

“Certainly, Miss Crowley,” Lady Sandford said and Crowley visibly suppressed a sigh before rising and moving to the instrument.

“I’m afraid I don’t sing,” Crowley said as she took her seat, sounding very put upon.

“I’m sure that’s quite alright,” Aziraphale said, hurrying to the instrument. “Let me turn the pages for you.”

Crowley looked at her over the body of the piano and gave her a smile so soft that Aziraphale thought it entirely possible she would melt right into the floor. She wanted to kiss Crowley so badly.

Instead she took up post by her side and brushed her hand over Crowley’s where it was rested on the keys.

“I’m sure you’re lovely,” she said in a low voice as she stood beside Crowley, satisfied when her smile quirked into something easy and fond.

“Wait til you hear it,” Crowley said wryly and then she began to play.

Aziraphale found herself lost in it. Perhaps she wasn’t some grand maestro but Crowley’s fingers were firm on the keys, face serene in her focus. She was so caught up in Crowley that she almost forgot to turn the pages for her, ruining this whole scheme to be close to her.

When the final notes sounded, the room clapped and Lady Sandford said, “You do yourself a disservice, Miss Crowley. That is quite a talent you have. Would you mind playing another?”

Crowley nodded and Aziraphale slipped onto the bench next to her. “Let me help you select your next piece,” she said, loud enough for the room at large and then she dropped her voice. “You were magnificent, Crowley.”

Crowley snorted derisively, some pink going to her cheeks.

Aziraphale took her hand and desperately wished to kiss the back of it. She settled on cradling it in her own. “No, I mean it. I never knew…”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know, Aziraphale,” Crowley replied in her usual teasing manner before something unsure passed over her face and her smile disappeared.

Aziraphale squeezed her hand and said quietly, “I want to kiss you right this minute.”

Crowley laughed once, loud and sharp and then covered her mouth with her hand as she looked at Aziraphale with a reprimand on her tongue. “None of that. I’m trying to play the piano.”

Aziraphale stood with a smirk, ready to turn the pages, watching as Crowley’s eyes flicked between the paper and Aziraphale’s face, a secretive smile on her lips.

* * *

Aziraphale shut the door to their shared room and immediately pushed Crowley back to the bed, mouth already on hers, kissing her, deep and messy.

“I want you,” Aziraphale said, pulling the ribbon from Crowley’s hair and watching the tendrils escape.

Crowley’s hands cupped her jaw, soft palms and long fingers, as she kissed back just as desperately.

“All day,” Aziraphale said, settling herself between Crowley’s knees. “All I could think was how far away you were and I wanted to be where no one could bother us.”

Crowley ran her hands up Aziraphale’s back as she pulled her down into another kiss. Tugging on her skirt, Crowley pushed it up around her waist, revealing Aziraphale’s bare legs. She brushed her fingers over the thatch of dark blonde hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Do I get to have you again, angel?” Crowley said, looking up at her from under her lashes, so gorgeous that Aziraphale couldn’t resist kissing her.

Then Crowley was tugging her up onto the bed, lying on her back as she settled Aziraphale over her shoulders and onto her chin, hot breath ghosting over her sex before she gave her a strong lick with the flat of her tongue.

Aziraphale cried out and fell forward, hands coming to the duvet as she tried to keep her weight off Crowley. Crowley’s fingers sank into the meat of her arse as she licked her again, this time softer, a fluttering.

Aziraphale sighed into the sensation. So good. Crowley made her feel so good.

Aziraphale found herself on her back with Crowley’s head between her legs, steadily working over her with that devilish tongue. In minutes, she had Aziraphale gasping in the constraints of her corset, her bosom pushing up and out her dress as she writhed against the sheets, finally coming when Crowley slipped a finger inside her and sucked mercilessly on her clit.

There were kisses on her thighs, gentle fingers pushing back her hair. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, angel.”

And then those same fingers were tugging on her dress, undoing her laces, until hands met bare skin.

“Oh darling, you feel so good,” Aziraphale said, reaching for Crowley in the growing dark.

The night went on like that, the slow removal of clothes, Crowley rocking against one of her thighs until she came and then again under Aziraphale’s tongue. Long slow kisses as the crickets chirped outside. Roaming hands full of comfort and desire.

Aziraphale had never felt so cherished. She should have known it would be Crowley to make her feel this way.

When they were both sated, Crowley crawled up next to her, settling onto the pillow and closing her eyes. Aziraphale tangled their hands together and brought them up to her lips so she could kiss Crowley’s knuckles. She laughed but then her face grew somber, eyes searching.

“I never thought you’d want anything like this,” Crowley admitted as the first rays of sunshine began to filter through the curtains. Had they really spent all night tangled together? Not that Aziraphale was complaining.

Aziraphale tucked an errant curl behind Crowley’s ear. “I do want it. I want you,” Aziraphale said, pressing a light kiss to Crowley’s mouth.

Crowley smiled into it and then broke away, wiggling her eyebrows. “Yeah? Fancy me, do you?”

Aziraphale swatted at her but she was laughing. Ridiculous demon. “Oh, hush. Of course I fancy you. I’m in love with you.”

The teasing look on Crowley’s face fell away as her mouth dropped open in shock. “You’re - _love me_?” she choked out.

Sudden fear swirled in Aziraphale’s belly. “I-I thought that was a given. Do you not -”

Then Crowley was on top of her, quieting her with deep kisses that stole the breath from her lungs. “Of course I fucking do.”

“Oh, good,” Aziraphale said, feeling ridiculously relieved. “That would have been a bit embarrassing, I think.”

Crowley fell back and started laughing which only prompted Aziraphale to sit up and glare at her. “What are you laughing at?” she demanded.

“You!” Crowley said, clutching at her bare stomach. “Your face. _That would have been a bit embarrassing._ Angel, fuck, I love you.”

The words sent a glowing thing all through Aziraphale’s body. She sighed as they shared a long kiss, finally breaking apart because neither of them could stop smiling.

The room was well and truly lit now, signaling morning and the need to get up and greet the day. Not that Aziraphale wanted to leave this bedroom at all.

But there was work to be done.

* * *

The ball was Friday and Aziraphale was set to leave on Saturday with her charge. Things were going well with Lord Sandford and she felt certain she would be able to wrap up this assignment within the month if not sooner.

But Friday was only two days away and that meant two more nights with Crowley. It seemed so miniscule in the face of all their history. And then they would go their separate ways and what? Keep in contact? See each other once a decade?

Aziraphale knew she was being maudlin but she couldn’t help it. The beautiful little bubble they were in was bound to pop.

But in the interim, she was going to enjoy every second.

And oh how she did. Every night, they brushed each others hair, trading kisses as they undressed, falling into bed with slow touches and gasped endearments. How Aziraphale had gone millennia without this, she had no idea. Every moment she became more certain that Crowley had wanted this for a very long time. It was clear in the desperation in her kisses, the hoarseness in her voice when she called Aziraphale _love_.

All Aziraphale wanted to do was hold her and tell her how truly dear she was. That she didn’t need to be desperate because Aziraphale wasn’t going anywhere.

Except that wasn’t true, was it?

* * *

Aziraphale gathered her things for the ball hastily. She was running late and she was supposed to be helping Lydia get ready, but _Crowley_ had wanted to have her against the bedpost the minute she walked into the room and her fingers had felt so good…

Regardless, Aziraphale was _late_.

Crowley was laid back against the pillows of the bed, watching her bustle about the room with half-lidded eyes. She was mostly undressed, only in her rucked up chemise, hair loose about her shoulders and looking terribly devastating.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Aziraphale said, blushing as she picked up her nicest shoes.

“Like what, angel?” Crowley said, slithering to the end of the bed and laying on her belly, looking up at Aziraphale through her lashes.

“Like _that_ ,” Aziraphale said. “You’re far too tempting and I have to get to work.”

Crowley flopped onto her back with a groan. “Balls are _boring_. We should just hide out here. Much more fun, I think.”

Aziraphale leaned over and kissed her briefly, pulling back before she could get carried away. “Yes, but at least we’ll both be there. We can keep each other company.”

Crowley grumbled but didn’t comment as Aziraphale rushed out the door.

* * *

“Do you think Lord Sandford will like my dress? He told me to save two dances for him,” Lydia said, biting her lip nervously. Aziraphale patted her shoulder.

“He’s obviously very taken with you, my dear. You could be wearing anything and you’d be the apple of his eye,” Aziraphale said, threading a final ribbon into Lydia’s hair.

“You really think so?” Lydia met Aziraphale’s eyes in the mirror and Aziraphale nodded decisively.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Lydia squared her shoulders. “Right.” She stood and turned to Aziraphale. “Let’s get you in your dress.”

Lydia helped her into her corset and buttoned up the back of her dress. It was gold and cream and put her bosom on display in a way that should make her uncomfortable. She wondered what Crowley would think. She blushed just thinking about that heated gaze.

She pulled on her elbow length gloves and let Lydia pin feathers in her hair for a final touch.

Lydia pressed a kiss to her cheek when all was said and done. “You look lovely as well, Aziraphale.”

And maybe Aziraphale did look lovely, but the minute she walked into the ballroom, she realized she could never look as lovely as Crowley.

In a long blood red dress with a black lace overlay, Crowley stood on the far side of the room, a small glass in her black-gloved hands. She was wearing those red glasses and her hair was done in black ribbons, crossing through her hair where artful curls fell about her neck. The dress was more low cut than what Aziraphale had seen her wear before, the waist cut higher, emphasizing her height and the lithe lines of her body. Aziraphale’s mouth went dry.

As if sensing her gaze, Crowley’s head snapped up and their eyes locked, mouth dropping open slightly before her face transformed into her usual careless grin. She pushed off the wall and crossed the room, all sinuous red satin as she approached Aziraphale. There were so many people around her but all Aziraphale could see was Crowley.

Aziraphale stood, frozen to the spot as Crowley drew up to her side, leaning down to speak in her ear. “Who’s the tempting one now, angel? Walking in here, dressed like that.”

Aziraphale blushed, feeling it spread down her neck and chest. “Not now, Crowley,” she said, a token protest.

“Yes, now I think,” Crowley said, leaning close enough that one of her curls brushed over Aziraphale’s bare collarbone. “Gorgeous angel. I can’t wait to fuck you later. I’m going to think about it all night.”

Aziraphale yelped and then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Crowley!” she hissed, embarrassed even as excitement shot through her like a lightning bolt.

Crowley stood up straight, looking for all the world extremely composed. Well, that wouldn’t last long if Aziraphale had anything to say about it. “Come along, angel. Let’s get you a drink.”

“That sounds lovely,” Aziraphale said politely, brushing a hand over Crowley’s lower back as she moved towards the refreshments. She didn’t even look to see what effect that had. This was just the beginning. She’d make sure this was the least boring ball Crowley had ever been to.

Crowley looked at her suspiciously as she took a glass of punch. It was quite strong and Aziraphale considered the wisdom of getting sloshed at a ball where she was supposed to be working. Casting her eyes over the room, she saw Lydia in conversation with Lord Sandford and sighed in relief.

“You know, I think this might be the easiest assignment I’ve ever had,” Aziraphale observed as she trailed Crowley to a less busy corner of the room.

“Oh please, have you forgotten Elizabeth’s coronation? If I recall, all you had to do was show up for that one.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Quite right, my dear. Perhaps I’m caught up in the fact that I’m here with you and that makes the whole business quite a bit more pleasurable.”

Crowley choked on her sip of punch. “Angel -”

Aziraphale pressed on ruthlessly.

“It’s lovely to look forward to bed every evening knowing that you’re there ready to touch me and please me so thoroughly, don’t you think?”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said warningly, a threat in her voice. Aziraphale ignored her. What was she going to do?

Aziraphale leaned closer, allowing one hand to brush over Crowley’s hip, knowing it would drive her wild. She had very sensitive hips. Though it had nothing on her inner elbows. Perhaps Aziraphale could use that to her advantage later.

“Say my name like that in bed later and see what it earns you.”

Crowley squeaked and Aziraphale had to bite back a laugh. There was more to this little game she wanted to play so she said lightly, “Ah, you must excuse me, my dear, I believe I should send my compliments to Lady Sandford. It is a lovely party after all.”

Crowley spluttered behind her as Aziraphale drifted off, feeling very pleased and - if she was honest - fairly aroused. This was going to be quite fun.

* * *

“Ah, yes, you’ve met Miss Crowley, haven’t you?” Aziraphale said to one of the young women attending the ball. Aziraphale laid a hand on Crowley’s arm, making sure to skate her fingernails over the silky fabric covering her inner elbow.

“I haven’t had the pleasure. I’m Marian Dickenson,” the girl said with a halfhearted curtsy, eyes flitting nervously about the room as if she wasn’t sure what to do. She was very young and Aziraphale wondered if she’d ever been to a ball before.

“Angel, I know what you’re doing,” Crowley said quietly, low enough not to be heard by anyone but her.

“Is that so? And pray tell what am I doing?”

Crowley groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Aziraphale covered her mouth with her gloved hand and gasped dramatically. “Well, that certainly won’t do, you see I have plans for you, my dear.”

Marian cleared her throat and said, “I’ll just go…”

She was looking between them in something like shock as she scooted away.

“See, you’re scandalizing the guests,” Crowley said sharply.

Aziraphale shrugged and took a sip of punch. “What of it?”

She turned on her heel and drifted off to find Lydia, satisfied when she heard Crowley follow after, grumbling under her breath.

When she reached her charge, the girl was practically glowing, chattering happily with Susan and her husband.

“Aziraphale!” she cried, tucking her arm through Aziraphale’s. “Are you having a lovely time?”

Aziraphale shot Crowley a heated glance. “I am indeed.”

“I’m so glad. Aren’t balls the best?” she said wistfully.

Susan laughed. “I forgot how enthusiastic you can be, my dear Lydia. It’s quite infectious.”

Lydia giggled and trotted off. Susan fell into conversation with her husband. Aziraphale took the moment of distraction to slip her hand around Crowley and squeeze her arse. Crowley jumped and then glared at her.

“I’d like to speak to you outside, Miss Fell,” Crowley hissed in her ear, the tickle of her breath over the sensitive skin making her shiver.

“Why yes, of course my dear,” Aziraphale said, nodding at Susan and her husband before following Crowley out onto the balcony. It was quiet outside, the strains of music and laughter muffled as they closed the door and found themselves alone.

The cool spring air rushed over Aziraphale’s cheeks, warmed by alcohol and the press of bodies inside. “Oh, what a lovely idea. It was getting quite warm -”

Crowley pushed her against the wall beside the door and covered her mouth in a bruising kiss. “You’re driving me mad, angel,” she said, kissing over her neck until she found the spot that made Aziraphale gasp and licked over it. Aziraphale squirmed under the attention, seeking more contact.

“So, not bored then?” Aziraphale asked breathlessly.

“Least boring ball I’ve ever been to. I should bring you to all of them. You’d make them exciting,” Crowley said, pushing her sleeves down off her shoulders and trapping her arms. “Fuck, you look just like one of those little cakes they served with dinner. Delicious. Delectable.”

Crowley pushed her knee between Aziraphale’s legs and ground against her thigh, eliciting a little gasp of her own. It made Aziraphale want to switch their positions, chase those sounds, make Crowley come apart.

“Think I can eat you up, love?” Crowley whispered, carefully rocking against her so they both found the friction they needed.

_Love_. Oh, Aziraphale could hear Crowley call her that every hour of every day and she thought it would still make her thrill with disbelief.

Gathering her wits, Aziraphale grasped Crowley and switched their positions, palm flat against Crowley’s exposed collarbone. The demon’s eyes went wide, golden rims showing above the scarlet lenses of her glasses.

“Not before I get a taste,” Aziraphale said, fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly because she knew exactly what it would do to Crowley.

“Fuck, Aziraphale, you’re so -”

“What am I, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, tugging down Crowley’s bodice and exposing her pert breasts to the cool night air. Her nipples were already hard, flushed dark pink under Aziraphale’s gaze. Compared to Aziraphale, Crowley’s breasts were so small, barely enough to fill her palm and so so perfect. Aziraphale ducked her head and took one of those nipples into her mouth, delighted when she heard the thunk of Crowley’s head hitting the wall.

“A fucking menace, is what you are,” Crowley said, voice thready as she grasped at Aziraphale’s hair.

Aziraphale scraped her teeth over Crowley’s sensitive flesh, licked over her sternum, and made sure to pay equal attention to her other breast, one hand skating down the satin of Crowley’s dress so she could push her thighs apart.

“What do you think, my dear? My hands or my mouth?” Aziraphale asked. Her own arousal was clouding her mind, narrowing her focus until Crowley was all she could see. It was a shame knickers were out of fashion this century because Aziraphale could feel her own wetness slicking the tops of her thighs as a steady ache began to build inside her.

[Crowley made a high, incomprehensible noise as Aziraphale brushed her hand over the apex of her thighs so Aziraphale made the decision for her. Why choose when one can have both? Have your cake and eat it too, so to speak.](https://twitter.com/ThePartySparkle/status/1218257608542498816?s=19)

Aziraphale pushed up her skirt and dropped to her knees in front of Crowley, pushing her thighs further apart so she could brush her thumb over Crowley’s vulva. It was so pretty, inner labia exposed to the night air, that delightful bundle of flesh visible through the soft thatch of curls.

Without preamble, Aziraphale plunged two fingers inside her channel, the last few nights together having taught her that Crowley liked her pleasure just this side of rough.

Crowley cried out and then covered her hand with her mouth, whimpering as Aziraphale fucked into her slowly. Crowley’s desire was slowly wetting her fingers and the heady, clean ocean smell of her was more than Aziraphale could bear.

Hiking one thigh over her shoulder, Aziraphale pressed her face into Crowley’s cunt and sucked her swollen clit into her mouth, the copper tang of her arousal on Aziraphale’s tongue made her sex clench, yearning to feel something inside her.

Aziraphale lapped at her folds, fluttering her tongue the way she had discovered Crowley liked it, occasionally using her teeth to make her cry out.

The door to the balcony rattled and Crowley threw out her hand, a pulse of her power making it slam shut. “Fu-u-uck,” Crowley said on a drawn out groan.

Aziraphale held her tighter against the wall with one hand, supporting her weight with her shoulders, as Crowley began to shake. Withdrawing her fingers quickly, she smirked against Crowley’s skin when the demon whined. All in good time.

She placed a biting kiss on Crowley’s thigh and looked up at her. What she saw made her stomach flutter as a wave of love washed over her. Crowley’s glasses were askew, her curls losing some of their spring, one of her breasts was still exposed and she looked absolutely debauched.

Their eyes locked and Crowley glared at her. “Naughty angel, teasing me.”

Aziraphale licked her thigh playfully before sinking her two middle fingers back into Crowley, sliding her forefinger over Crowley’s perineum and fluttering it against her hole as she sucked Crowley’s clit back into her mouth.

Crowley’s hands slammed into her hair, knocking one of the feathers out, as she bucked up into Aziraphale’s mouth, crying out.

“Fuck, so good, angel. So good,” she babbled, a sure sign she was about to come. Aziraphale set her tongue back to work and fucked into her harder with her hand, delighted when she felt Crowley’s thighs tremble, her whole body shaking as her cunt pulsed around her fingers.

Aziraphale fucked her through it, relishing each pulse of her body as she moaned out her release. She slipped out her fingers and gave Crowley’s clit a final lick before standing and capturing Crowley’s mouth in a filthy kiss.

Crowley’s hands were in her hair, holding her in place as they traded sloppy breathless kisses. “When we’re in bed tonight, I’m going to fuck you til you’re screaming,” Crowley breathed, palming over her breasts. Aziraphale pushed up into her hands with a whine.

Crowley stepped away abruptly and snapped her fingers. Aziraphale found herself perfectly coiffed and unwrinkled. She frowned.

“Later, angel,” Crowley said, drifting away and back into the ballroom as if she didn’t have a care in the world, all evidence of their tryst entirely erased.

Aziraphale gaped after her.

Naughty indeed.

* * *

Crowley held her down with a hand at the base of her neck, forcing one thigh up and back as she rocked into her slowly, three fingers pulsing in and out. The pace was brutally slow, cresting Aziraphale in waves of pleasure that were simultaneously too much and not enough.

And Crowley was smirking.

Which was distinctly unfair because it made Aziraphale’s insides heat in an unbearable way that she knew would only be relieved by a kiss. But Crowley was withholding kisses.

_Naughty angel has to earn her kisses_ , Crowley had said as she pushed her back onto the bed.

“I love you,” she gasped out, hoping the words would do something to alleviate the swelling inside her. It ebbed slightly when Crowley paused and kissed the inside of her knee.

“Love you too, angel,” Crowley said and then gave her a pointed look. “Don’t think that means I’m going to take it easy on you.”

Aziraphale arched her back, utterly undone by Crowley’s forceful demeanor. She whined and pressed into her hand, begging for more.

The stretch of three fingers disappeared to be replaced by the subtle curl of two, pressing up against the spot inside Aziraphale that made all of her nerve endings cry out for more.

“Please, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “Stop teasing me.”

“All in good time.”

Which apparently meant Crowley fucking her at such a slow pace that Aziraphale felt nearly wrung out with pleasure by the time Crowley began to pay her aching clit any attention.

“Oh fuck!” she cried out when Crowley finally rubbed her thumb over the perfect spot. She wasn't able to be even slightly embarrassed at the obscenity because that - that felt so good.

“Yeah?” Crowley asked and even though Aziraphale’s eyes were closed she could picture Crowley’s expression, dark and heated.

Then Aziraphale was being kissed, Crowley’s expert fingers working over her until she couldn’t feel anything else.

She came with an obscenely loud shout which she imagined she would be embarrassed about later, but right then all she could feel was the intensity of her peak as Crowley kissed her, tongue hot in her mouth.

She might have blacked out for a moment because the first thing that registered was the bony press of Crowley’s ribs in her side as Crowley gathered her in her arms, hands brushing over her back in a soothing gesture.

“Such a good little angel,” Crowley murmured, kissing her hair.

“Thought I was naughty,” Aziraphale slurred, still a bit drunk with pleasure.

Crowley laughed and her breath tickled Aziraphale’s hair. “That too.”

Aziraphale hummed and snuggled closer, Crowley’s cool body fitting against hers just right, sharp angles and all.

They stayed like that for quite some time. As Aziraphale’s hazy thoughts started to clear, some of her anxieties from the night before began to worm their way to the surface of her mind. What were they going to do? They were both leaving tomorrow. Would she see Crowley again? Would it be like this?

“I can hear you thinking,” Crowley said, half-asleep.

Aziraphale pulled back and settled against her own pillow, the separation of their bodies making Crowley emit a grumbling whine.

“What are we going to do?” Aziraphale asked, hoping Crowley would be understanding about her worries.

Crowley’s eyes snapped open, glowing faintly in the dark of the room.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just -” Aziraphale gathered herself, trying to still the unsettling beating of her heart - “We both leave tomorrow. I’m finishing this assignment and then it’s back to my bookshop and you’re - I don’t know where you’re going.”

Crowley flopped onto her back, mouth a sharp line. “What? Did you want to go back to the way things were? Trading assignments every decade or so? I imagine that’s easiest.”

Aziraphale’s stomach turned over. That wasn’t what she wanted at all. She reached out and laid a hand on the concave of Crowley’s belly. She thought - she hoped - this was just Crowley’s fears talking. One of them needed to be brave. And Aziraphale had been a warrior once.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll respect that,” Aziraphale said slowly. Crowley sucked in a breath but said nothing so Aziraphale continued, “But that’s not what _I_ want.”

Crowley’s head turned slowly, those beloved otherworldly eyes fixed on hers. “And what do you want, Aziraphale?”

“You,” Aziraphale admitted, hand on Crowley’s belly tightening into a fist. “I want you to come back to my bookshop and stay there between assignments. I want you in my bed and in my life. If I could, I’d never have this week end because it’s the happiest I’ve been in a very long time.”

Crowley’s fingers touched her jaw lightly. “Is that - do you mean it?”

A tear slipped down Aziraphale’s cheek and Crowley caught it with her thumb. She laughed wetly. “I’m afraid I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean.”

Aziraphale felt the inexorable pull of Crowley’s arms around her as Crowley drew her close, kissing her forehead, her hair, her cheeks.

“That’s what I want too. It’s all I’ve wanted. Just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.”

Aziraphale tucked her nose into Crowley’s neck, breathed in the smoky scent of her. “I do, darling.”

“I know,” Crowley said, holding her close.

* * *

The next morning they said polite goodbyes to everyone on the steps of the estate, Crowley hanging back as Susan climbed into her carriage.

Aziraphale looked on as Lord Sandford and Lydia said goodbye in low tones. The man was blushing and looking entirely lovesick. They would certainly be engaged quite soon.

Crowley’s hand on her arm drew her attention as she pulled Aziraphale away from the group saying goodbye.

“When will I see you again?” Crowley said, hand curled possessively around her elbow.

No one was paying attention to them so Aziraphale risked pushing Crowley’s hair back from her face and cupping her cheek. It wasn’t enough. She wanted to kiss her goodbye for the whole world to see.

“I should be done with this assignment by the end of the month. But if - if I’m not back in London by then, you can still stay at my place. If you like.”

A smile bloomed on Crowley’s face, easy and sweet. Aziraphale’s heart swelled.

“Alright, I’ve got - I dunno what my next assignment is but I’ll be there. The minute I can.”

Crowley squeezed her hand and tried to pull away but Aziraphale held her fast. “I love you,” Aziraphale said, the words tumbling out with as much sincerity as she could manage during this swift goodbye.

“Miss Crowley!” Susan called from the carriage. They were about to leave.

Crowley looked very much like she wanted to kiss her but instead she trailed a thumb over Aziraphale’s inner wrist. “I’ll see you soon, love.”

Aziraphale nodded and tried not to cry. It was silly but her heart already yearned for Crowley.

“I’ll be waiting,” Aziraphale said, clasping her hands in front of her so she didn’t reach out and pull Crowley against her.

“Til then,” Crowley said with a polite nod of her head and trademark grin so full of promise that it made Aziraphale’s knees weak.

“Until then, my dear.”

Until then.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr [here](https://www.summerofspock.tumblr.com)
> 
> if you enjoyed this fic, I'd happily recommend Blue_Sparkle's [An Arrangement of Convenience](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20793047) and my own [Seducing the Serpent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566716/chapters/51417124) for more sultry bodice ripping content


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